Cliques That Click
by Cooked Brains
Summary: When Craig is asked to go to a party, an unexpected event occurs that he'll never forget. Craig/Clyde Rated for language and sexual events


**A**/**N**: Once again another attempt at a fanfic I'll probably read later on and find really stupid. But uh, I guess it never hurts to try. With every failure I get a step closer to succeeding, or some motivational crap like that.

This is Craig/Clyde, pretty much my favorite pairing ever. My otp.

This fanfic is dedicated to my friend, Alaina.

Also, I didn't read over this. XD Too lazy. So if you see any errors, please inform me of them!

**Note**: Craig and Clyde in here are not portrayed as how I normally do. These versions of them are based off of Alaina's versions. Just to get it out there, this is not how I usually write them as.

**Rating**: **M** for language and sexual events.

**Disclaimer**: **South Park** obviously isn't mine. Craig and Clyde's personalities and lifestyles and whatnot developed in here are not from my own imagination.

--

**Cliques That Click**.

Working quietly in a classroom while the rest of the room was also silent was always such a stressful environment. For Craig, anyway. It got to him the most out of anybody else he ever knew. When he leans more towards the paper to concentrate, there's an eerie feeling that gets to him. It's almost as if someone was watching him… In fact, it was like the entire classroom was watching him.

It never really went well if there was a bunch of the "popular" kids in his classroom. Kids like Stan Marsh, quarterback of the South Park Bulls; Kyle Broflovski, star player on the basketball team; Travis Feeber, the kid who does the best at every sport he does; then of course, Clyde Donovan. The linebacker on the South Park Bulls' team. The popular, usually athletic, kids in South Park High were what intimidated Craig the most. He never showed it much, but inside he was always afraid that they might find out about him… He wondered if they already knew, and that's why nobody talked to him. Nobody on their level anyway.

Except Clyde. Clyde succeeded in his position in football almost too well; he was almost the team's best player. He was one of the most sociable guys in the school. He wasn't afraid to talk to anybody, he wasn't afraid to speak his mind, and he never held back from saying something in the classroom. Clyde's energy was always at a high. He made people smile wherever he went. Girls would swoon when he walked by, smelling the sweet scent of that cologne he bought from Hollister. Craig would always overhear them talking about how cliché (in Craig's own words) he was: tall, dark, handsome. He had the perfect pearly white smile, not a tooth was out of place. His dark hair was always long, wavy, and shiny and never was a strand sticking out from those beautiful locks. His voice was smooth whenever he spoke and his walk was the slow strides, his head up high as if he owned the school. Yep, Clyde Donovan sure was an eye-catcher.

The complete and total opposite of Craig, of course. Though Clyde was considered tall at a five-foot-ten-inches, Craig had him beat by at least a good one and a half or two inches. Craig's skin was a creamy white, with tinges of pink at the joints. His hair was jet black, long but still shorter than Clyde's, and it was always matted underneath a blue earflap hat. His teeth were hidden behind shiny metal braces (as Craig would say, "To get my fucked up teeth straightened out finally,") with a bit of blue in them. Unlike Clyde's filled in, muscular body, Craig's was rather thin and scraggly. His voice was scratchy most times from the low mumble he spoke with, and his eyes were always a dull, light grey. When walking past students in the hallway, no one would pay any attention to him.

Except Clyde. If Craig trotted down the hallway, eyes more focused on his feet, he would soon find a pair of expensive Puma shoes walking next to him. He'd look up to see Clyde's bright eyes and shining smile. Craig would use all of the willpower stored in him to resist from getting giddy inside. It was such a girl thing.

"S'up?" The jock would ask.

Craig would shrug, looking forward. "Nothin'." Just play it cool.

"That's cool. Hey, I was wonderin', you wanna go to a party this weekend?"

What? Did Craig just hear correctly? Maybe he forgot to clean his ears out this morning… It couldn't have been right. "A… a party?" He stuttered.

Clyde laughed, "Yeah man, a party. A lot of kids are gonna be there and I just thought it'd be cool if you went too."

"U-um," Craig couldn't believe this was happening. Was this some sort of joke? "Sure, I'll go."

Clyde smiled and slapped him on the back in a friendly manner. "Alright, cool man. The party's at my house this Saturday. It starts at sundown, and uh, it's BYOB. I know some people will bring their own weed too, so if you wanna bring some that's cool too. I'll see you there!"

Just like that, he disappeared. He went into a classroom that, from what Craig could see, only had a bunch of girls in it. Craig couldn't believe what happened. Clyde Donovan invited him to a party? If Clyde's the host, then that must mean a lot of the other cool kids were gonna be there too. Shit, Craig thought, this is gonna be weird. I'm probably going to be the only loser there.

For the rest of the day, Craig couldn't focus in his classes. The only thing he'd think about is what the party would be like. He imagined kids he'd see in the hallways stumbling about, a booze cup in one hand, a weed joint in the other. He'd never really been a party like that before. He often wondered what happened at those parties. He would hear kids on Monday from that weekend talk about the crazy stories that happened, like how one time Kevin kissed Jason on the lips and called him Darla.

What was it gonna be like? Would he like it? Would he talk to people? More importantly, would people talk to him? Would Clyde even pay attention to him? What if he was just in a corner the whole time, holding the same cup of beer for three hours?

Shit. This week's gonna suck.

--

Saturday rolled around eventually. It had been four days since Clyde had invited Craig to come along to the big bash that was supposed to happen tonight. Those four days seemed like four weeks, and Clyde didn't help Craig any when he would ask him every day after that if he was still going. Was Clyde always like that to everybody he invited? Either way, it made Craig's week seem longer than it would have if Clyde didn't harass him.

Craig was lying in his bed. It was 7:30 pm, the sun had started to make it's way to the horizon. By 8 o'clock, he figured, he'd start making his way towards Clyde Donovan's house.

While Craig was walking down the sidewalk towards the Donovan's residence at about 8:09, he wondered what he was getting himself into. He wasn't sure if this was some cruel joke the jocks and preps had schemed up to humiliate him. He wasn't sure if it was actually going to be a blast. Craig sighed and tugged on his hat tighter. Damned weather was getting cold now as it was peaking towards the middle of November.

Even while four houses away from Clyde's, Craig could hear the thumping bass from the stereo. As Craig reached the doorstep, his heart raced. He maintained a cool face in an attempt to rid himself of his jittery feelings. He opened the door to see a bunch of people walking and standing around, a loud volume of voices as a thin cloud of smoke hovered over everybody. Craig coughed a bit and inched his way inside the house, closing the door behind him. Someone walked by and said hi to him.

So far, so good. Everyone was pretty calm right now, compared to what he imagined everything to be like. It was probably because right now was only the beginning. Everyone was sober still. It'll get a thousand times worse than this two hours from now.

Craig looked around, exploring the house and walking through people. He walked past a little circle of some jocks and preps getting high. That was surprising. He didn't think football players got high with the cheerleaders. Weed seemed like it was only reserved for those who were labeled as stoners, but maybe it was just the stoners that were more noticed for that kind of stuff.

"Hey Craig!" Came a familiar voice from behind him when he entered the kitchen. Craig turned around to see that same smile he saw everyday--that of Clyde Donovan's. "How's it goin' so far?" He asked, talking over the music.

Craig shrugged. "Not so bad I guess," he laughed, "but then again I only just got here."

"Oh," Clyde laughed as well. He went to the refrigerator and opened it up, bending down to see what to grab. Craig's eyes couldn't help but fall down to Clyde's perfect ass. It was so full, the best bubble butt ever. Craig often times thought about that same ass, thought about pounding it multiple times.

He shook his head to get the dirty thoughts out. Clyde stood up with two Bud Light cans in his hands and tossed one to Craig. Craig caught it, much to his own surprise.

"Nice catch," Clyde grinned. "There's plenty more where that came from. Make yourself at home here." He walked past Craig, smacking his ass on his way out. Craig jumped. "I'll see ya around the party."

Clyde Donovan just smacked Craig's ass. Was that physically possible? Craig tried to calm himself down. It probably meant nothing. Jocks, especially football players, do that to each other all the time. It's their way of showing good sportsmanship, and good friendship outside of games. Besides, it was impossible for Clyde to mean that in the way Craig wished he would.

Craig sighed and made his way into the crowd of people he really thought he shouldn't be hanging out with.

A few hours had gone by, and just as Craig predicted, the "little get-together" (Kevin's words) had reached it's maximum point of insanity. This would probably go on for a few more hours until people start passing out left and right, while others make their way home to fuck their equally drunken girlfriends. Craig ended up drinking more than he thought he was going to. Probably about three beers, which was the amount others drank in 45 minutes, but he was taking it slow.

After chugging the rest of his third cup, he had decided to go for another. Three-fourths into that one, and he ended up feeling a wave of nausea instantly hit him. Lightweight. Maybe this was how everybody was when they first started drinking. He walked around the living room some to try to walk off the nausea, but with every step the sick stomach feeling worsened. He didn't want to make himself look more like a loser in front of everyone at the party.

He figured the best way was to head up to the upstairs bathroom. That way, nobody would waltz in on him while his throwing up and make fun of him or something. Nobody goes to the upstairs bathroom. It was the most private room in the house. Craig felt more safer going there, so he made a slow effort into crawling up the stairs to the second floor.

Downstairs where the life of the party was, Clyde was carefully watching Craig go upstairs. He sipped on his beer and continued talking to some girl who was trying to get him in the sack for the night. He paid no attention to her. She was a dumb blonde anyway, he thought. He looked at her and smiled sweetly. "Hey babe, you think you could hold this for me? I'll be right back." He handed his red plastic cup to her. She took it and strolled away with a wink. Clyde's attention was more focused on the stairwell than some fake five thousand dollar boobs.

In the private upstairs bathroom, Craig was kneeled in front of the toilet, seat up and face practically touching the water. He was ready to throw up his stomach. He was sure that with the smell of the toilet water he would vomit faster, but for what seemed like ten minutes, he did nothing. He sighed and sat back. His nausea was gone, he realized. "Well that was stupid," he said to himself and stood up, putting the toilet seat and lid back down.

"Havin' fun yet?" Craig jumped from the sudden voice. He whipped around to see Clyde standing at the doorway, one arm propped against it over his head. The brunette smirked. "Everybody throws up their first time."

"I didn't actually throw up," Craig corrected him. "I thought I was going to though."

Clyde cocked an eyebrow. "Oh really? Huh. You're one of the lucky ones then," he smiled. "I thought I was gonna die from puking up all that stomach acid and alcohol my first time." Craig laughed.

"So anyway," Clyde continued. "You wanna, head back downstairs? Seems like you'd be able to handle another beer or two."

"Um, sure," Craig replied. Clyde nodded his head towards his right where the staircase was. He waited for Craig to get close enough to him so where he could follow right behind.

When they reached a doorway that was on their right while about to hit the stairs, Clyde pushed Craig into the door. It was slightly ajar, which caused Craig to stumble backwards into what appeared to be Clyde's room. He gave a "Whoa!" as Clyde walked smoothly into the room, closing the door behind him and locking it. He grabbed Craig by the shoulders and slammed him against the door. Clyde pressed his lips hard against Craig's, soon after his tongue made its way past Craig's full lips and metal-protected teeth.

Craig couldn't help but make an almost distressed sound, but what it mostly came from was the shock of all this happening at once. He reacted quickly, and the reaction showed itself boldly underneath the zipper of his jeans. After a moment his tongue started responding to Clyde's flicking tongue, enjoying the pleasure of Clyde's body pressed against his own. This was definitely not happening.

Clyde pulled away and breathed out loudly. "Damn," he smirked. Not bad. His eyes dropped down to Craig's crotch and his smirk only got bigger. He looked back up to meet his chocolate brown eyes with Craig's piercing gray. "What do you think?"

The only thing Craig could for a moment was blink and stare at Clyde like he had a third eye on his forehead. Finally he replied. "I didn't know you were gay." Clyde laughed.

"I'm not."

With a simple reply like that given, anybody would be just as confused as Craig was at this moment. "S-so… You're bisexual?" He thought he'd give it a shot.

Clyde gave a quick shake of the head. "I ain't bi, either." Okay, what kind of trick was he pulling? Craig thought. "To be honest, I really only felt this attraction to you. I never thought I'd find another guy hot." He chuckled some. He seemed so cool about it. Craig tried to soak this in. One of the most popular guys in the history of South Park High School was interested in _him_? Unreal.

Awesome. But unreal.

Craig had been secretly crushing over Clyde for about six or seven months now. He admired everything about Clyde: his looks, his personality, how he was the only jock who'd talk to him… Often times Craig would come home from school and lock his bedroom door, hand making it's quick way down to his groin.

To be in front of the guy who made his day just by glancing at him and having him being told that same guy wanted him just as much as he did was almost overwhelming.

"I, uh, hope you didn't mind." Clyde scratched the back of his head, realizing that he himself wasn't really sure if that's what Craig wanted. He was blinded by what he wanted. When he sets his sights on something, he has tunnel vision until he gets it.

"Oh no," Craig shook his head. "I'm fine. I'm just surprised you…"

"Haha, yeah. Like I said, you are the only guy I've found myself attracted to. I have to actually apologize, I didn't really think about what you'd think first."

"I'm gay," Craig announced. It was the first time he actually said the words out loud to anybody. "Of course I'm going to like it." He grabbed the sides of Clyde's unzipped jacket and pulled him in for another steamy kiss. This time, Craig will have more of an idea of what's going on.

Their kiss lasted longer than either of them thought it would have. They pulled away multiple times only to go back in for more. Clyde's tongue slid gently over Craig's in a soft massage. Craig moaned almost silently in pleasure while Clyde softly gnawed at his bottom lip. Their breaths mingled together, hot and heavy. At one point, Clyde grabbed hold of Craig's hat, that stupid hat, and tossed it off to the side. "You should show your hair more often," Clyde muttered between kisses. He stroked Craig's silky black hair, grabbing at the back of his head to deepen their kiss.

Clyde started making his way backward. One hand was still on the back of Craig's head, the other placed firmly on his waist. Craig's arms were snaked around Clyde's neck. Clyde kept baby-stepping his way until he felt the edge of his bed against the back of his knees. He sat down, bringing Craig with him, but that's when Craig's nightmare happened.

"Ow!" Clyde hissed as he pulled away from Craig's lips. Craig looked up at Clyde with pure horror plastered on his face. Clyde's fingers were gingerly touching the center of his lower lip and when hitting the right spot, he'd wince. "Augh…"

"Holy shit, I am so sorry," Craig apologized. Inside he was panicking. He never wanted that to happen with anybody. He was always afraid that the person would instantly leave with a cut up lip. Fucking braces, he cursed.

Clyde snickered. "Nah, it's cool. I always wanted to know what it was like, cutting my lip on someone's braces."

Suddenly all relief was lifted from Craig's shoulders. "Really?" He almost laughed from how scared he was. He didn't think Clyde was the kind of person who'd like pain.

The two boys sat there a moment. Craig watched as Clyde kept patting his finger on the broken skin and licking his lips shortly after. Clyde would look at him and just smile.

"Alright," Clyde finally said. "I think it's done bleeding." He pulled Craig up by the collar of his shirt and kissed him again. Craig was somewhat hesitant in following his actions. Even if Clyde liked it, he didn't want him to cut his lip again. What if it was in the same spot?

Clyde showed no signs of hesitation as his tongue flicked it's way back into Craig's mouth. They continued making out moments after before Clyde started pulling Craig's shirt off from behind. They pulled away from each other and Craig lifted his arms to help the shirt come off faster. Clyde discarded the shirt as well as his letterman jacket and t-shirt. His hands made their way to his own pants zipper, unzipping the crotch area and pulling out his dick. Craig watched him as his mouth hung open.

"Go for it," Clyde insisted. His eyes were half open, and he leaned back onto the bed, propping up with his elbows.

Craig couldn't help but gawk a bit. This had to be a dream. Clyde Donovan just whipped his dick out in front of Craig? Whoa.

"I… But what if I…?" Craig stammered with his words. His worst nightmare now was if Craig went down on his dream-lover and the unthinkable happened. That wouldn't go too well with the parents. How would you explain that to them? How would you explain that to the medics coming from the ambulance?

Clyde grinned. "Just go for it," he pushed. "I'm a guy who likes to take risks. It gives me a thrill."

I guess I could just think of it that way, Craig thought. He admired the way Clyde's mind worked. He didn't care if something was dangerous, he'd do it anyway. With confidence in himself, Craig made his way to engulf Clyde into his mouth.

His wet mouth covered Clyde's penis, his hands firmly gripping onto the brunette's thighs. Craig's tongue swirled around the head, flicking at it some. He had never done this before, but anyone would have thought this was just an everyday thing. Probably from all the porn he watched when nobody was home.

Clyde's head rolled back and he closed his eyes to enjoy the moment. He felt Craig's tongue sliding up and down his shaft. He felt the vibrations from the bass of Craig's voice when he moaned with his dick in his mouth… Clyde moaned from the sensations. His stomach was turning, his legs were tingling, and his toes were almost numb. Where were his fingers again? Oh yeah, they were entangled in Craig's hair.

Craig continued to deep throat the darker teen, enjoying the taste. He pulled Clyde out for a moment before going in again, his left hand gripped at just the right amount of pressure at the base. Clyde moaned as Craig sucked gently. He wanted to watch, but his head was too heavy, his mind was too clouded to pick up. All he could do was focus 100 on Craig's oddly talented tongue. At a point, Clyde moaned out Craig's name deep from the back of his throat. In response, Craig sucked a little harder to give appreciation.

Soon, Clyde noticed his toes were completely numb. It was as if they weren't even there anymore. He knew what was coming shortly after. It was his own personal quirk he had. His toes went numb. He heard of someone who sneezed. He knows a lot of guys twitch insanely before it happens. But for him, his toes go numb. He usually lets the other person know, but this time he thought he'd keep it a secret. He came, still in Craig's mouth. Craig pulled away quickly and coughed a bit from the surprise. When Clyde was done, he licked off the mess that was around Clyde's dick and licked his own lips from it.

Clyde sat up fully and pulled Craig in for a taste of what he had in his mouth. He pulled away and licked his lips. He stared Craig in the eye, though his eyelids were still heavy with lust. "Yum," he smirked. Craig sat there and recollected himself.

Holy shit, he thought, I just gave Clyde a blow job. There was no reason he shouldn't be surprised, after all.

The brunette zipped his pants back up as Craig stood up away from the bed. Clyde slid his shirt back on and tossed Craig his. Craig also threw his shirt on, still replaying everything over. He couldn't help but stare at the stained blankets on the bed. Clyde stood up and placed a hand on Craig's shoulder. "You wanna go back downstairs now?"

Craig nodded and they headed back down to the party. It was still as lively as ever. Craig decided to drink as much as he could and every time he looked at Clyde, Clyde was staring at him back, flashing his pearly whites to him.

--

The Monday after, everybody was talking about the crazy shit that had happened at the party. Rumors were starting to spread that Bebe got knocked up by Stan at the party, and when asked, Bebe would reply with nothing. Some couple ended up breaking up after the guy started making out with another girl while completely stoned. Craig was afraid somebody would say something about him and Clyde, but nothing was mentioned. Nobody saw them after all. They just had a fun, private time together, safely locked within the walls of Clyde's bedroom.

Craig naturally felt as if he was used, since the only thing Clyde did was lure him into giving him a blowjob by sucking on his tongue. Did he really mean what he said? What if Clyde didn't actually really find any attraction towards him? Craig needed to stop worrying. He thought it was probably a disorder with how much he freaked out over things.

These thoughts continued until Clyde came up to Craig between eleventh and twelfth period. Nobody was in the hallway. Craig was at his locker, getting his book bag. Clyde came up with a quiet, "Hey."

Craig turned to look at him. He smiled sheepishly. "Hey," he replied. He didn't think Clyde would talk to him anymore. His eyes shifted down to Clyde's hand. He was holding out a blue earflap hat.

"You left this at my place the other night," Clyde said. "Thought you'd want it back."

Craig grinned. "You keep it."

Clyde mirrored his expression. He let his hand fall down his side, grasping onto the hat tightly. "So, uh, wild party, huh? You like it?"

"I loved it," the ebony-haired teen admitted.

"Okay good," Clyde said, "because I was wondering if you wanted to come to another party I'm having this Friday night."

Craig smiled. "Sure. Sounds fun."

"Cool," Clyde paused. "Well I guess I'll see you there," he started walking away, past Craig. He smacked his ass again, this time with a little grip in it. "This time it'll be more fun for you." Just like that he disappeared. Craig knew the double meaning to that last statement. He also knew that football players don't grip other players' asses when they smack them. He smiled and shut his locker, making his way to the last class of the day. This time, he didn't care if the room was silent.


End file.
